Finally Home
by LilyGhost
Summary: Stephanie accomplishes a goal she set for herself and views the change in her life as a solid foundation for her and Ranger.


**Just to see if I could, I turned a few of my original stories into Babe one-shots. This is one of them. Everything familiar belongs to Janet. The mistakes are mine alone.**

It finally happened. I worked my ass off and saved everything I could _when_ I could and it paid off, because I'm now the proud owner of a house that belongs solely to me. I squirreled away every cent I could manage, went without new clothes, hot shoes, and take-out, but it'd been worth every spoonful of peanut butter I've consumed as a meal replacement to be where I am today.

No more crappy apartment that had been three sizes too small for me. No more having to smell dinners being cooked that were better than my own except for when I was with Ranger. No more feelings of envy or disgust from seeing a delivery guy drop off something more substantial than a sandwich or a newspaper as I was trying to cajole my lock into opening for me. And for damn sure, there will be no more handing my money over to someone else just for a place to sleep at night.

I like Dillon and all, but I hated giving him a check every month for a place I despised. I made sure I'd be able to pay a good-sized down payment in full when I finally found a home I wouldn't mind dying of natural causes in, hopefully after a _very happy, very long_ life. Another thing I'm grateful for is ... only two people know what I've been up to and what I've finally accomplished. I confided in my two best friends, Mary Lou who I'd made pinky swear four times to not tell anyone else, and Ranger who _never_ talks so there's no danger of him blabbing.

He and I have something pretty good going, and I'd been worried that me buying a house just outside Trenton would hurt him because he's said repeatedly that Rex and I are welcome anytime at Rangeman. But he knew this was something I needed to do in order to prove to myself that I could. He just asked that he be allowed to personally inspect what I choose so the house would be an asset instead of a liability to me. He also made me promise to tell him the day of the official move.

"Hector and Bobby have the day off," he told me this morning before I left his apartment. "They'll be happy to help you move your things until I'm free."

I shook my curls at him. "No. They don't get much down time. They shouldn't have to waste any of it helping me."

"No time with you is ever wasted."

I leaned forward and kissed him for still saying sweet stuff like that despite already having me in his bed every night. And then I told him the real reason I want to do this solo.

"This is a big day for me ... for _us_... and I want to hoard all my feelings and emotions about it until I get to share them with you. Bobby and Hector have already agreed to come to my 'house party' on Sunday, so they'll get to see the place when it looks more like our home."

"My meeting should be done by three."

"So ... if I add the usual five minutes it takes you to tell Tank whatever was said in the meeting. Plus fifteen minutes for the time it'll take to drive there. I guess I can crack open the wine around three-thirty?"

"Just don't drink any of it until I get there. I have plans for you and your bedroom tonight."

"It's your bedroom, too."

"My name isn't the one on the papers," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but I _really_ want you living there with me. _That's_ way more binding than any contract could be. Why do you think I made a _two_ -car garage a requirement? I want there to always be a place for you wherever I live and in my life. It sometimes feels like you own half of Trenton, but does it bug you that I wanted to do this without asking you for help or for a loan?"

"It doesn't bother me as long as you know I would've bought you whatever house you wanted had you even hinted that was an option."

"I've always known that ... which is why I never made it one."

"I'm proud of you, Babe. You're happy ... and that's all I care about."

I got up from my seat at his kitchen table and used him for a chair instead. "I'm proud of me, too, but _you're_ the reason I'm happy. A new house isn't what's been causing all my _'Yay, me!'_ feelings."

After a pretty good 'we only have five minutes' make out session, Ranger went to work. I did, too, but in a different way. I drove to my almost old apartment and loaded up as much as I could into the black Lexus GX 460 Ranger bought me for a birthday present - and still refuses to take back - and then I headed 'home'.

Eight months after it was given to me, my SUV is still in mint condition, another miracle in my life. I'd agreed to every tracker, security gizmo, and concealed weapon, Ranger offered. If he was sweet enough to buy me something I'm still not convinced I deserve, the least I can do to make him happy is keep the vehicle - and myself - alive and in one piece.

I pulled up to my new address and parked in the driveway. I'll test out the garage when I have less crap with me. The one-story house probably doesn't look like much more than an interesting home to anyone else looking at it, but to me it's a symbol of a lot of hard work and a commitment I never thought I'd be capable of making. I feel completely relaxed here, and the building fits well with mine and Ranger's unique view of things. I can't wait to watch him walk through the double doors at the end of every business day.

What's almost as good as picturing us living here, is imagining my mom's face when she hears that the white clapboard siding and stone house Ranger and I will be living 'in sin' in, is actually a renovated church. Thanks to my big mouth, though, he did have a few doubts about it before he'd even seen the legitimate _cathedral_ ceilings and the obviously open interior floor plan. I'd been so excited about finally finding something I liked, that I'd blurted out " _Holy home base, Batman!"_ as I'd slipped out of his car that day when he'd come with me to do his thing before I signed anything.

He'd paused as if questioning my sanity or his own for loving someone like me, but as he walked around the half-acre of property and inside the building almost smack in the middle of it, he seemed to be okay with it.

The first thing I did after moving the boxes from my trunk to the house, is put the cookie jar Julie got me for my birthday on the kitchen counter near my new stainless steel fridge. What should be used as an actual cookie-keeper is a replica of the multi-colored, polka dot-lined jar Jim Rockford - the only other person who kept a gun inside a cookie jar - used in the series.

Once I put my gun in _its_ new home, I plugged in my coffee maker and had caffeine spitting out twenty minutes after I'd unlocked the double front doors, filling the entire house with my idea of a comforting smell. I still haven't mastered a layer cake recipe from start to finish, so a coffee-scented home will have to do.

I dug out my black coffee mug with the fake diamond ring handle and filled it to the top. After hearing that Ranger and I will be living here together most - if not all - of the time, Mary Lou thought the mug would be hysterical since he and I are married in every way except on paper. Since she got married right after high school, she still thinks Ranger needs a daily ring-reminder even though I repeatedly assure both of them that I don't need anything more than what I have right now.

I worked straight through the morning, filling the kitchen cabinets with the few things I already owned and the extra stuff Ella and Mary Lou insisted every house should have, even mine. I also rearranged some of the new furniture Ranger told me I needed for the living room, kitchen, and bedroom.

He thought a move required a larger, less lumpy bed that was delivered and set up yesterday. And a hardwood coffee table and small kitchen table set were apparently necessary. I agreed we'd need a place to eat, but Ranger said those pieces of furniture in particular needed to be well-made in case I somehow ended up sprawled on one or both of them.

I spent another hour putting the bedroom closet in order so I can finally find what I'm looking for, when I'm actually looking for it. Without him seeing me, I'd packed a bag - or three - for Ranger so he'll already have clothes here. And yesterday on my lunch break, I went shopping and bought his preferred brand of razors, toothpaste, and cereal. I wanted it clear that he doesn't have to go back to the Rangeman building for anything if he didn't want to until we head to work on Monday.

At noon, I switched out my coffee for the chicken fajita bowl Ella had thoughtfully left for me in Ranger's fridge that morning. I carried the Tupperware bowl around with me as I moved around the house, taking bites out of it while putting sheets on the bed and shampoo and Bulgari in the shower. All the house crap I used to dread, now I don't mind doing.

I have a place I finally feel at home in and I plan on enjoying every square inch of it, and every part that goes into making it a sort of haven for Ranger and I. I'm a far cry from the domestic goddess Joe prayed I'd magically turn into, but I've figured out that settling down with a guy doesn't mean I've actually _settled. Ranger_ being the guy I fell for means I didn't have to trade the freedom of my crazy life for a boring one.

My life is still completely nuts, but I'm happy just about every minute of it. I hunt down scumbags on a daily basis and need to carry a weapon at all times because of it, but I do it for a highly-respected company ... Ranger's. And I get quality time with him, or with one of the guys, whenever I have an apprehension to do, because my guys want to make sure I'm always protected and that I'm always being educated, which translates into there is always someone available for backup. Apparently compromise _does_ work, and works really well, if respect and love are equal in the relationship.

I called my Man of Mystery before I tackled the disposal of all the packing material I'd crammed between the objects I didn't want broken.

"Yo," he said, after he picked up.

"Yo yourself. How's your day going?"

"Good. No injuries to the good guys and two bad ones were released into police custody. And you?"

"So far so good. No one's come over to tell me to get out yet."

"It's your place, Steph. You leave only when you want to."

"It's a nice feeling. _Now_ I get why you wanted to work for yourself instead of sticking with Vinnie."

"Vinnie was just a boredom-buster. I had no intention of doing all his work for him long-term."

"I wish I could say the same. If it weren't for you, I'd still be there. He's Lula and Joyce's problem now."

"It's fitting company."

I put Lula above a homewrecking, siliconed-up skank, so I can't totally agree with that with a clear conscience.

"You're still coming here after work, right?" I asked instead.

"Yes. And I don't plan on using up a lot of our time on small talk or a house tour."

I laughed. "I didn't expect you to."

"I'll see you in a few hours."

"Be careful," I said.

"I'm inside my own building."

"Still ..."

"Love you, too, Babe."

My stupid cheeks actually hurt from smiling too much at his words. In the past, telling him to be careful was the _only_ way I could voice that I love him. Now I can say it easily and as often as I want, though we've reached a place where we don't have to spell out what we're thinking. We never misunderstand each other anymore when we do talk. It's been a busy year, but a pretty freakin' amazing one. Vinnie, Joe, and weekly Burg dinners, have been shoved into the past. This house, my ever-evolving Rangeman career, and my relationship with the boss himself, is my present ... and also my future.

By three, I was satisfied with what I've gotten done so far. I opened the bottle of wine I'd snagged from Ranger's kitchen, and headed out to the front porch with two half-full glasses, intending to meet him when he got here. Someone nearby had been mowing their lawn and I got to enjoy the ' _Summer's here!'_ smell that came in on the breeze while eyeing the doormat Tank gave me as a gag Christmas gift that simply says " **COME BACK WITH A WARRANT** ".

The joke will be on him when he comes over on Sunday with everyone else and sees that I actually put it where everybody can see and read it. Despite Ranger's warning not to drink anything alcoholic before he joined me, I lifted my glass to salute my 'welcome' mat, a productive day, and the start of a brand new phase of my life.

I had my head tilted back resting against one of the white pillars that created the small front porch, when I heard a car turn onto my street. As the vehicle went quiet, I made my eyes open, looked towards the driveway, and saw the hottest guy I've ever laid eyes on coming out of his Porsche Turbo with a large take-out bag in his hand. The fact that he's all mine doesn't dull any of his attractiveness. Just knowing what a sweet, loyal, yet deadly, man he is makes him even hotter in my eyes. Add in what I'd guess is Chinese food, and I can feel myself falling in love all over again.

My hair had reached full rat's nest stage before noon, my jeans and tank top are all wrinkled from kneeling then standing as I unpacked stuff I probably don't need, and my face is flushed from the wine ... and also from staring at him. My appearance shouldn't warrant a second look, never mind the _third_ scan he's giving me right now. Guess he wasn't lying when he said he thinks I'm sexy no matter what situation or condition I'm in.

"Lookin' good, Babe," he said, putting the brown bag down and then sitting beside me.

He looped a muscled arm around my shoulders and pulled me close enough to kiss.

"Yeah right," I told him, once my lips were released, "but my current Bride of Frankenstein look was caused by me getting the majority of our things put away, so I'm okay with it. Even if I didn't love this place, which you know I do, I wouldn't leave because now I remember how much work it is to pack and unpack everything."

That comment got me a hundred-watt grin, and damn it if he didn't get better looking right before my eyes. His dark ones crinkled up at the corners and his full lips separated, giving me a few not-so-appropriate thoughts that I'm hoping to act out once we polish off the food he'd picked up.

"You look beautiful to me."

"You're just saying that because you want to get lucky later," I said.

I held my breath and watched his perfect face lower to mine. I thought he was going to kiss me, but he was waiting until his lips barely touched mine to speak.

"We're both getting lucky later. That's something that never has to be questioned."

 _Then_ he kissed me again. When his tongue slid deliciously along mine, I fully grasped the danger I'm in with this man. Deep down, though, I know I never have to worry about anything involving Ranger ... except for him possibly getting hurt on the job. He's so opposite of Dickie and Morelli, he's like part of a separate, far superior male species.

"I missed you today," I said to him, when he drew back an inch.

"Same here, but we're together now. I plan on enjoying you, and breaking this place in, the entire weekend. Tank's on call."

"I owe him."

"You owe _no one_ , Steph."

That's only _one_ of the many things he's taught me.

He picked up the bag of food and stood. He held out his free hand to me and I immediately put mine in his. I watched it get swallowed up as he closed his fingers around me. He then tugged until I was tucked against his side.

I couldn't stop a goofy expression from hijacking my face as I made Ranger stop our progress into our new place to pick up the two wine glasses. He got one of the doors for me and I paused again to look around at the seemingly endless expanse of pale buttercream-colored walls and espresso-stained trim. I breathed out a happy, contented sigh. This really does feel like a sacred space to me. After thirty-plus years of just existing, I'm now living every moment ... and I feel like I'm finally home.

 **A/N: Steph's cookie jar, diamond ring mug, and her new doormat, can all be found online.**


End file.
